Silence Devoid of the Meaning
by Dark Day For Anime
Summary: Second sequel to 'A Darker Shade of Pale' - Things take a turn for the worse for Makoto.


The characters portrayed within are the creation of Takeuchi Naoko,  
and are used without her permission.  
  
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Silence Devoid of The Meaning  
by DDFA  
  
This is the second sequel to "A Darker Shade of Pale".  
  
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She had to protect herself from the people out there. They   
wanted to destroy her, subsume her into some mindless sense of   
purpose and duty.... She had almost allowed herself to slip into a  
state of compliance, but she was smarter than that.  
  
There was a girl, name of Wakabara Yayoi. Makoto had known   
her, but all too briefly, in her first Junior High school. She was   
a tall, thin and lanky girl, with longish fawn-coloured hair....   
With their mutually unusual heights, both she and Yayoi were likely  
to fall into each others' company.  
  
Makoto peered out of the window. The sun was setting now.   
After an entire day of ranting and raving, trying to get the voices  
out of her head, she had calmed. As had the voices, which were now  
nothing more than a dull rumble. Calming, yet with a hint of   
menace, that they would return with renewed vigour. Makoto didn't   
want to hear those voices. She wanted to sanctify her body and   
spirit against the melting-away of her being, into the common   
purpose.  
  
Friendships were short in those days, but they seemed to last  
close to forever. Something to do with the warped perception of   
time one has when one is young. The days went on forever, and weeks  
were an eternity. Their friendship had lasted approximately seven   
weeks, but it had been enough time for a young girl, such as Makoto,  
now devoid of parents, to claim an emotional connection.... To turn  
Yayoi into a barrier against the harshness of what it was she had   
had to face....  
  
They had always been after her. Standing on the street   
corners, waiting for her to pass by on her way to and from school.   
It was as if there had been some sign, flashing above her head, that  
said "fight me".... Unsurprisingly, since she had been taller than   
any other girl her age. After the first few fights, she had tired   
of being thugged on by others, and had chosen to seek them out,   
handing out her own form of thuggish justice to those who preyed on  
the weak.  
  
Yayoi had been strong, too.... Stronger-willed than Makoto   
had ever been. That was another reason Makoto liked her. The pair   
of them were able to back each other up in times of crisis. And in  
this particular school, that had been altogether too often. There  
was a desire to keep rogue elements in line amongst certain elements  
of the school's population. It was not uncommon for beatings,   
bordering on out and out abuse and torture, to occur under the   
guidance of members of the school's student body. Naturally,   
neither Yayoi, nor Makoto, were particularly enamored of these   
methods.  
  
They were out there. She could see them.... People passing   
by in the street. Occasionally, one would look up at her, then look  
away. She loved the way they feigned disinterest, as if they were   
going on with their daily routine. Quaintly amusing, in a way....   
If not for the fact that it was all so false. Such things as daily  
routine were a fantasy, devised by those who controlled the common  
purpose, to make sure the cycles of the world ticked away like   
clockwork. How she despised them all, for giving in to the   
conditioning.... For sacrificing their individuality. She had   
managed to retain her individuality, no matter how negative it had  
been, all of these years.  
  
One day, Yayoi had disappeared. Vanished, just like that.   
Her parents had been very upset, as had Makoto. It was the day   
after she had been involved in an argument with the school student  
body president. Makoto didn't know what it had been about, and she  
was surprised that Yayoi wouldn't allow her even the slightest bit  
of information as to what had lead into the argument. Yayoi had   
shunned her for the rest of that day. Makoto was sure she had been  
in tears.  
  
Makoto fingered the tangled and greasy strands of her hair,  
hanging loose from the usual ponytail she had chosen to wear as a  
mark of her individuality. In truth, it was nothing more than an  
attempt at appearing socially acceptable. It never really worked.  
People still regarded her by reputation, rather than personality.   
Even now, her reputation was darkening her relationships with the   
closest of friends she'd ever had. Was ever likely to have.  
  
She had begged with the president, in the wake of Yayoi's  
disappearance, for information about the argument.... What had lead  
to it and such. He remained stern and tight-lipped, warning her   
never to bring it up in conversation around him, again. The whole  
affair had made Makoto feel vulnerable, and she didn't like feeling  
vulnerable. She became violent. Anyone who even dared look at her  
in the wrong way was fair game. She knew how to fight, and she   
fought often. In those moments, there seemed no greater pleasure  
than to see the blood of her opponents fly, to hear the crunching of  
bone....  
  
Fighting is not enough. She knew she had to build up the   
barriers of protection around her, even if it meant cutting off all  
those who cared about her. Their concern was almost certainly   
false. Nobody had really cared about her. Nobody but Yayoi. It  
was strange, though, how much Yayoi reminded her of Usagi. She felt  
tears come to her eyes, and she slid down with her back to the wall,  
below the window. Usagi really DID care, didn't she? Her concern  
wasn't just some fluke of destiny's path?  
  
She had been transferred not long after.... The school just   
couldn't deal with the concept of such a violent female student.   
Not that there weren't tough girls within the student body, it was  
just the level of violence which she had displayed.... The anger   
she was feeling.... A kind of anger that seemed to have no true   
source, and no purposeful target. She just needed to express her  
anger to the world, even with the negative results that it brought.  
She never did hear about what had happened to Yayoi. Not for a   
while, anyway.  
  
Usagi had picked her up at the point of her transfer....   
Nobody else was willing to deal with a girl who got off on breaking  
noses. Usagi really didn't care very much about her reputation,   
just the lunch Makoto had made for herself. And Makoto was more   
than willing to share that lunch with her. Of course, she realised  
now that Usagi was probably more interested in the food than she was  
in her, but it didn't matter.... It had been a while since someone   
had appreciated something about her. And Usagi had been so forward,  
too.... The forwardness broke through the wall she had built up   
around herself. The same forwardness that Yayoi had displayed.  
  
Yayoi had just jumped in, headfirst. That was what the police  
had said. The body was quite decomposed, and had been made a meal   
of by whatever was hungry enough. It had been a dark time in   
Makoto's life. There were missing memories in her mind....   
Something about having died. Of course, she wasn't too afraid of   
death, after all, if you've died once, it's a kind of a nothing   
experience when it happens again. But it was the thought, of some  
bloated, festering corpse, being found and identified as Yayoi, that  
had upset her. When she had died, she had vanished into   
nothingness, with an almost painless abandon. Yayoi's way of death  
seemed like.... Like....  
  
Like silence, devoid of any meaning.... Just a sudden moment  
of total physical annihilation and violation. Total corruption of   
the body.... Not that the body was worth much.... Just a stinking,  
nauseating bad on blood and bones, carrying some putrefying soul on  
into infinity, or killing the soul with its own physical demise.   
Makoto placed her hands over her ears as she tried to shut out the  
sounds of her own sobs. She was too evil to feel sorry for.... She  
hated herself and she hated everybody else. They all wanted to   
control her or kill her and she understood why. They killed Yayoi,  
and now they wanted her to follow.  
  
The world was starting to slip away, in much the same way it  
had earlier. Reality, dying with the last of her self-worth. And  
then the phone rang, and it all came back into clarity.... harsh,   
sharp and painful. She let the phone ring once.... twice....   
thrice... She leapt forward, scrambling across the floor to the   
table where it was sitting. Four times, five times, six times. She  
held the table for support with her left hand, allowing her right to  
slip up to the receiver, lifting it, and placing it against her   
head.  
  
"Moshi moshi.... Mako-chan?" The voice was high-pitched,   
concerned. Makoto swallowed, not immediately recognising the voice.  
  
"Yayoi?" She whispered into the mouthpiece. There was a few  
moments of silence from the other end. Then....  
  
"Mako-chan? Are you alright? We didn't see you today, and we  
were worried...."  
  
"Usagi?" She whispered again.  
  
"Mako-chan, are you okay? Who is Yayoi?"  
  
"Usagi....chan...." Makoto swallowed. "Help me..."  
  
  
A vision passed Makoto's eyes. It was Yayoi, smiling at her.  
  
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"I've always felt at home with the dead."  
  
Tom Baker  
  
  
_________  
/ @ \ DDFA (The Right Dishonourable Mark A Page)  
/ / ^ ^ \ \ ayanami@internode.on.net  
/\  
\/ \/  
\___________/  
/_/ \_\ PU  
  
Version 1.0 - Sunday, 22nd November 1998 


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